He Who Fired the Gun
by Mutant of Time
Summary: "Artie," America started as he turned to his lover. "I can do this. You have to trust me." "Alfred!" England said sternly, "You can't go! What if you don't come back?" "Don't think that way." America goes off to war where Canada joins him, on a secret mission for France. But how far will he have to go to finally earn France's love? UsUk, One Sided Franada, Possible FrUk.
1. Chapter 1

**So I got this idea awhile ago, but didn't get around to typing it until now. Sorry dudes. I'm a slow writer xDDD Anyways, enjoy the chapter, and tell me what you think of it! xDDD**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia! It belongs to Hidakez Himaruya! xDD**

* * *

"Artie," America started as he turned to his lover. "I can do this. You have to trust me."

"Alfred!" England said sternly, trying to keep his tears at bay. "I can't let you go! What if you don't come back?!"

"Don't think that way."

England threw his arms around America, his tears finally spilling over.

"Fine, but just make sure to come home, okay?"

"I will. I promise," America said as he planted a small kiss on England's lips.

And with that, America walked out of the house, closing the door behind him, and got into the car that was waiting for him.

"You all ready?" Canada asked, as he started pulling out of the driveway.

"Ready as I'll ever be!" America replied enthusiastically. But in reality, he wasn't ready. He didn't want to leave. But he had to.

Canada and America were going to fight in the war in Iraq. Well, only America was, at first, but then Canada decided to go with. He hated it when his brother had to go to war alone. Like England, he was afraid that America wouldn't return.

Canada drove to the airport, and the ride there was silent. Neither of them felt like talking. As soon as they arrived, America hopped out, and began retrieving his and Canada's things from the trunk, carrying them all in one arm.

"Stop showing off!" Canada said, "People are staring! You can't use your super strength everywhere!"

America laughed obnoxiously, waving his brother off. "C'mon, Mattie! Let me have _some_ fun! We're going off to war, for crying out loud!"

Canada rolled his eyes as they both neared security. Ugh...always such a hassle. One of the security guards stopped them, giving them weird glances.

"Can I see some I.D.'s?" he asked.

"Sure, dude!" America exclaimed as he pulled out his I.D, flashing it to the officer. Canada did the same.

"Alfred F. Jones and Matthew Williams, huh?" he said. "You sure you two aren't related?"

"Hard to explain...," Canada said.

"LAST CALL FOR FLIGHT 196 TO IRAQ!" was heard over the intercom.

"Well, would you look at that!" America said, "There's our flight!"

"You two going to _war_?" the officer gasped.

America rubbed his neck sheepishly, "Yeah. We better get going!" he said, and he and Canada began walking off to their flight.

* * *

The North American twins had arrived at their camp in Iraq, and were immediately sent off on a mission as soon as they unpacked. They were sent to spy on the nearby enemy camps, and gather all the information they could. America wanted to shout as loud as he could, declaring that he was the Hero, but he knew that now wasn't the time. So many people underestimated his good judgement, which he had a lot of, really. He knew that he had to be mature now. This wasn't just any war between him and another nation. This war involved not only the people here, but his people back at home. He had to be careful if he was going to keep his citizens safe.

So with that, America urged Canada along with him, and they both worked their way silently to the enemy's nearby base camp. When they reached it, America put his finger to his lips and looked at Canada, making sure that he knew they needed to be absolutely silent. Canada rolled his eyes. Of _course_ he knew.

The two nations snuck around, and observed the people of the camp. They were wearing simple clothes, and looked very poor. Canada and America made a silent agreement on a plan. They were going to disguise themselves and infiltrate the camp to obtain information.

All in all, the mission was very simple. The two nations gathered the needed information, succeeding in their mission. They brought the vital information that they had obtained to their commander. The two were praised, and sent off to their barracks to relax until evening meal.

"Ya know, this isn't as hard as I thought it would be!" America said to Canada as they entered their room.

"Well, that was only our first mission...it was probably a test of sorts for us. They don't know...about us," Canada said.

America waved him off, "Don't get down, Mattie! That just means we'll pass each mission more easily!"

"But that also means that we will be put into more and more dangerous situations. And we could also be found out. Walking 10 miles on foot with 100 pounds of equipment on your back isn't the easiest thing for a normal human."

America sighed. Why did Canada have to go and get him depressed like this?

"Okay, Mattie, can we just stop talking about this? I know the risks, but I'm sure we'll be fine. After all, we can't die unless our capitals are burned down."

"Which very well could happen if you make one wrong move!" Canada said, exasperated. Why couldn't Alfred take anything seriously?!

America turned his back to Canada as he unpacked some of his things and put them in their proper places. Canada followed his lead.

"I'm starving, bro!" America exclaimed, mainly to fill the silence between himself and Canada.

"I'm sure we'll get called for dinner soon," Canada replied calmly as he placed his hockey stick against the wall.

America saw this. "You brought your..._hockey stick_?" he asked. "Why in the world would you need that?"

"You never know when you'll need a hockey stick," Canada said, shrugging his shoulders.

America laughed, pulling his brother into a bear hug and giving him a noogie.

"H-hey! Let go!" Canada said, protesting and trying to get out of his brother's iron grip, but to no avail.

America laughed again, and dragged his brother off to dinner as the dinner bell rang.

The two entered the meal hall and sat down next to each other. They were getting stares, and people were whispering.

"Did you hear that those two passed their first test? No previous military record, and yet, they get to be _spies_ on their first mission!" Someone exclaimed, not-so-quietly.

"Look how young they are! Success on their first mission! They have so much potential and life ahead of them...it would be a shame if they couldn't leave the battlefield...," Another person said.

Canada's face grew solemn as he heard the gossip around them, but America nudged him playfully, and smiled.

"Ignore them, 'kay? We're successful, and they're underestimating us. Of _course_ we'll come home alive!" America said, a bit louder than he intended. His remark earned him a few sympathetic looks and shakes of the head.

Canada gave him a rare glare and whispered angrily, "Quiet down, Amer-...Alfred! You're only drawing more attention to us!"

"Sorry, Mattie..."

Canada looked away from America and pierced his army food vengefully with his fork.

_"That idiot...he's going to get us caught!"_ Canada thought to himself. It was times like this that he _really_ disliked his brother. Always an attention-whore. How ridiculous.

America noted the look on Canada's face and decided to pipe down, and not talk at all. A truly angry Canadian was a _very_ scary thing, and he didn't want to have to put up with that right now.

The two finished their meal in silence, basking in the light conversation that surrounded them instead. When the two were done, they silently got up together and disposed of their trays, and then returned to their room.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Canada spun on America.

"I am _not_ going to let this go so easily, Alfred!" Canada said, using America's human name, _just in case_. "What you did was dangerous to both of us! Some people may view it as optimism on your part, but it'll be different when we pass more missions without a scratch! They're already suspicious!"

"B-but," America tried, but Canada didn't give him the chance to speak.

"Seriously! An 18 and a 19 year old in war, already given a larger mission than people in their twenties, _and _we succeed? Plus, we're 'not related', yet we look so much alike! You need to stop drawing so much attention to yourself!" Canada said, almost on the brink of shouting, which he would be doing, had they not been at war and near others' barracks.

"Okay, okay!" America said, throwing his hands up in surrender.

Canada only glared at him and said, "I'm serious. One wrong move, and you _won't_ be returning to En-...Arthur."

America's heart skipped a beat. _"Arthur..."_ He had to return at all costs. By the time he drew himself out of his thoughts, Canada had already changed and was in bed.

"Turn off the light, will ya?" he asked, his voice still tight with anger.

America obliged, and decided to stay up that night. He needed to be wary, for that Canadian across the room was an _angry_ Canadian. _Never_ anger a Canadian, even if you're their brother. You will not be spared.

* * *

The North American brothers were given several more missions, each getting harder and harder. Canada was right, people _were_ getting suspicious that the two were completing all their missions without flaws, when they were supposed to be young and inexperienced.

Their leader thought nothing of it though, so he placed the two on a higher ranking mission. They weren't going to the immediate battlefield yet, but were instead instructed to infiltrate the enemy's second main base.

Canada stressed over their mission, but America babbled all night about it excitedly.

"Oh my god, Mattie, we're going on like, a _super_ important mission! Aren't you excited? I'm excited! For sure!" America said, grinning widely from ear to ear. He didn't even give Canada time to answer his question before he started talking again,

"This is like, _so cool!_ Dude, we are like, _SO AWESOME_! More awesome than that douche, Prussia!"

Canada interrupted him, "Prussia isn't a douche! He notices me and appreciates my pancakes and maple! Unlike you."

A protest of "Hey!" could be heard from America's mouth, but Canada ignored him.

"And sure I'm excited, Alfred, but this is also _really_ dangerous!" Canada said, then proceeded to lower his voice and say, "And we are supposed to use human names, remember? It's Gilbert, not Prussia."

"Yeah, yeah," America said, waving his brother off. "Whatever."

"Don't 'whatever' me!" Canada said with a scowl.

"Sorry dude, but I'm just so excited!"

"Well, don't get carried away. This mission is important, and dangerous."

"I know," the American said, "But I'll be extra careful!"

* * *

"Extra careful, eh?" Canada said, glaring at his brother. America was practically strutting around, acting completely out of the identity that he had stolen.

Canada sighed. At least their stolen identities were twins. Canada leaned and whispered to America,

"Hey, if you're going to act obnoxious, can we at least switch identities? You're supposed to be the shy one."

"Sure dude!" America whispered loudly as he swapped suitcases that held paperwork for their identities with Canada.

Canada facepalmed and followed after his obnoxious brother to their 'workplace'. Their stolen identities' workplace,

As they rounded the corner, Canada sensed trouble. He opened his mouth to warn Alfred,

"Alfred, wait!"

But Alfred had already opened the door to their workroom and instantly, he was shot straight in the heart by a man who knew something was up with the North American twins and their 'identities'.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you guys SO MUCH for all the views and stuff! It means a lot to me, especially since I'm getting readers from places I haven't even heard of! This makes me really happy, so I thought you all should know! I'll probably be updating this story on Mondays, just because Mondays are boring, and I think that updating will make them less so! Now I'm babbeling...oh well. Enjoy~~  
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia! xDDD**

* * *

Canada threw himself against the wall, blending in immediately. A burly man with a gun, the one who shot America, stepped on his body mercilessly as he walked out of the room. He looked around, finding no one, and walked away, muttering about imposters under his breath.

As soon as he was gone, America's eyes popped open as his hand flew to his heart.

"Mattie...?" he said, and he then blacked out.

Canada rushed forward and picked up his brother. He stumbled a bit under his weight, but he stood up, strength and adrenaline filling him. He then rushed out of the building as fast as he could with his brother over his shoulders, letting his clothes soak with his brother's blood so they wouldn't leave a trail.

As soon as Canada got back, rushing into the camp, he hurried to the medical center. On his way there, people saw him, and gave him startled looks of concern when they saw his unconscious brother over his shoulders.

As soon as Canada entered the medical wing, he requested a special doctor. This doctor knew about the nations, he was the only one there who knew about Canada and America. As he was requested, he rushed forward and spoke to Canada.

"America!" he said. "Your brother got shot?!" he asked frantically.

"Actually, I'm Canada, America got shot. In the heart," Canada replied, sighing.

"Oh, sorry, Matthew," the doctor said. He then put America on a stretcher with Canada's help, and took him into the surgery room.

"It may be awhile, just go rest," the doctor told Canada. Canada wanted to protest, but he was tired, and he knew the doctor would take good care of America, so he nodded and made his way back to his quarters.

* * *

A few hours later, America, followed by the doctor, entered his and Canada's room.

"Hey bro!" he called out, lively as ever, completely unfazed by the fact that he _could have _died.

Canada jumped from where he sat at his desk, and then stood up, rushing forward and enveloping America in a hug.

"Alfred, you're okay!"

"Of course I am, silly!" America said, ruffling his brother's hair. "But the doc is sending me home for a few weeks. For recovery, he said," America said, rolling his eyes. _"Like I need it," _he voiced under his breath as an after thought.

"Are you happy to go?" Canada asked America.

America gave him a sly smile, "Well, I'll get to see Iggy, but I'll be leaving you behind."

The doctor glanced at America, but turned to Canada.

"You know, you could leave too. 'To assist Alfred.' will be your excuse. This is America's war, so you really have no obligation to be here," he said.

"Well, I told Alfred I would offer the assistance of my people, which would mean that I should be present myself. But I suppose I'll take leave for now. 'For Alfred.'," Canada replied.

The doctor nodded. "I'll pass that information onto the General then. Pack your things, and I'll send transportation to the airport."

"Thank you," Canada and America replied together.

Then the two North American nations began preparing for their temporary trip back home.

* * *

Meanwhile, the doctor was meeting with the General, explaining how the two would be taking leave.

"What? Taking a month's worth of leave? For getting shot? Soldiers have gotten limbs amputated and stayed here for years after! I understand that these boys are young, but really?!" the General snarled, clearly angry.

"Well, I was thinking more like 3 weeks. And he didn't just get shot anywhere. Alfred got shot in the heart. We barely managed to save him," the doctor lied. It had been quite the simple task for him to remove the bullet, cleanse the tissue, and sew Alfred back up. Alfred was conscious within the hour, and ready to do more fighting too. But somehow, the doctor had managed to convince him that he needed to take a small break from war. "And don't forget that he was shot on a mission that he shouldn't have even been in danger on."

The General stroked his chin. "I suppose you're right," he mumbled. "So his brother is going with to help him, right?"

The doctor almost nodded, but then he remembered that the two 'weren't brothers'. "Err...yeah, except they aren't brothers. Only...distant cousins or something of the sort," he said.

"But they look so alike! They could be twins!" the General exclaimed, the conversation now getting off topic.

"I suppose it happens a lot with cousins. Anyways, I said I'd get them transportation. They should be finished packing by now. I'm off!" the doctor exclaimed, and he made a quick escape out the door before the General could ask him any more tricky questions.

The General shrugged his shoulders and went back to the book he was reading. The cover said "War Strategies" on it, but...well, the content of the book certainly didn't match the title.

* * *

America and Canada had finished packing, and were already on the airplane home. Canada was so tired, so he was sleeping through the flight, but America felt restless. None of the movies interested him, and he hated reading the boring books that Canada had brought with him, and he was sure that a flight attendant wouldn't hesitate to throw him out a window if he got up out of his seat again. So instead, he stared out the window he was sitting by, and imagined that he was a super hero flying on his own, and not in a plane.

Thinking of being a super hero made America want to get his own super hero name, so the first name he thought of was Captain America.

_"Dammit! No fair! _I _should've been Captain America! Not that other guy! I'm America! I'm the Hero! Stupid...everything is so stupid!" _America thought to himself. He really should've been Captain America. He _was_ America, after all. America turned away from the window to find people staring at him. Even Canada had woken up and leaned over to whisper to him.

"You probably shouldn't say that kind of stuff out loud."

"Shit! I said that out loud?"

"Yeah..."

Canada turned to the people staring and began to apologize for his brother.

"I'm sorry...he had surgery a few..err...days ago, and medication is only wearing off now," he said. It looked like very few people bought into his alibi, but they shrugged, just thinking that the two young boys were insane. Canada facepalmed as he heard America curse the actor for Captain America again, and refrained from hitting his brother over the head with a book.

America eventually dozed off, imagining what it would've been like, had he been chosen to be Captain America. Super heroes filled his dreams, and he sighed with content as he actually fell asleep. In his dreams, he heard a distant phone ringing, but it only blended itself into his dreams.

_"Captain America here, how can this Hero help you?" _he would answer his phone. But of course, he would know what was wrong before the person had to say it. So he would say, _"Alright! I'll be right there!"_ and hang up the phone heroically. Then he would fly to them or something and save the day.

But of course, the phone ringing wasn't just in his dreams.

_"'Ow is ze plan going, _mon ami_?"_

_"It's...it's going fine."_

_"Is he out of comission yet?_

_"Well, not yet..."_

_"Get on it, _mon petit Matthieu_."_

_"_O-oui_, papa."_

Canada sighed as he hung up the phone. He hated doing this...he really did. Canada shook his head at himself in disappointment, and began devising another plan to take out a certain someone, so he could make France proud.

* * *

**Sorry, short chapter is short. But that's because of the next chapter! This one would be like, 3,000 words long or something if I combined them! xDD Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Next chapter coming soon ~~ :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**So here I am with the Monday update! :D Liking the story so far? Hope so~~~ xDD**

* * *

The plane that the two North American nations were on landed fine, and together, the two decided to take a taxi home instead of calling England to pick them up. After all, he didn't know they were home yet. So the two took a taxi, and slept through most of the ride home from the airport.

About 20 minutes later, the taxi driver woke them up, saying,

"We're here."

Canada woke first, and was quick to take out money to pay the driver. He then shook the groggy American next to him awake, and the two grabbed their luggage and headed to the door of the house.

"Let's be quiet and surprise Iggy, okay?" America suggested, just before unlocking the door stealthily.

"Fine...," Canada said, with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

The two walked through the door, silently, of course, and heard _Doctor Who_ playing on the television in the next room. America held back a chuckle, and decided to go the long way through to the living room so that England wouldn't see him.

America entered the living room, while Canada trudged quietly up the stairs to the guest room. America snuck up behind England, and slowly slinked his arms around the older nation. He felt England freeze, and he slowly turned his head to see who his captor was.

"Alfred!" England said, a mix of a grin and a scowl making an appearance on his face. "Y-you're home! Already? And don't scare me like that!" he scolded, though tears of happiness rolled down his cheeks, so the scolding wasn't really sincere.

"Yeah, I kinda got...err...shot. The doctor made me come home," America replied, as he rubbed behind his neck with his hand awkwardly.

"You got _shot_?!" England asked, his voice raising in worry.

"I'm fine, though! Really!"

"Where did you get shot?" England pressed.

"Does it matter?" America asked, exasperated.

"Of course it does! Where the hell did you get shot?" England asked again.

"In...in the heart."

"You GIT! How did this happen?"

"Mattie and I were on a mission! Then this dude just randomly shot me. It wasn't very eventful, honestly. Not like...never mind," America said, sighing.

"Not like what?" England asked, curious.

"You don't like to talk about it," America said flatly.

"Oh...that...I suppose nothing is very eventful compared to that," England replied, eyes downcast.

"I suppose," America agreed. The two nations stood there, saying nothing. Then England stepped forward and hugged America again.

"I missed you...," he said as he buried his face in America's next.

"I missed ya too," America said, resting his chin on England's head. The two stood there for what seemed like hours, before finally, America pulled away and pressed a gentle kiss to England's forehead.

England leaned in to it, and then tilted his head upward so that their lips met. Shivers racked his body, for it had been quite awhile since he had any intimate action of any sort with anyone. After all, he wasn't one to cheat, especially on America.

America wanted nothing more than to kiss England back enthusiastically, but he supposed it could wait, especially with the Canadian clearing his throat at the entryway of the living room.

"Can you guys just get a room?" he asked sarcastically, which was completely opposite of his normal personality.

"What's wrong, Mattie?" America asked.

"Nothing, but you know, we will have to leave in a few weeks. We don't get long here. Anyways, do you guys mind if I run a few errands, to the store and all that?" Canada asked, sounding a little suspicious, but it went completely over the heads of the other two nations.

"No, of course not! Do you need any money?" England asked, taking out his wallet.

"Oh, no. I have my own, thank you," Canada replied. He then turned curtly and walked to the front door, exiting through it and locking it behind him. The engine of England's car in the driveway revved, and Canada pulled away.

In the car, Canada was thinking his new plan through. Go to France's house and talk with him. Stop by the grocery store. Come up with an alibi for his extended absence. Good.

Canada smiled to himself. His plan was fool proof. No one would even suspect a thing.

Canada pressed on the gas pedal, wanting to get to France's house fast. He briefly wondered what his brother and England were doing, but he had a feeling it _really_ wouldn't be hard to guess. He'd rather not think about that...after all, his job was to try and stop that kind of thing from happening, and he was feeling a bit guilty for not doing a good job on it. But he had a good excuse, he was going to visit France after all, and obviously couldn't keep an eye on the other two if he was with France.

Canada made it to the airport, and boarded a plane to France as quickly as he could. The plane didn't take that long to take off, and it was hardly any time at all before he arrived in France.

We can all guess what was happening during that time with America and England, and what was continuing, which we'll get back to later.

Canada walked up to France's door upon arriving, and France answered after just a few knocks.

"Oi, _Mattieu, mon ami, _what brings you here?" France asked as he opened the door.

"You should know what brings me here, Francis," Canada replied easily, and a bit icily.

"_Oui,_ I understand now. Well, what have you found?" France asked.

"Well, the thing is, the original plan isn't working. We need to change it up a little."

"Well? Then what is the new plan, _mon ami?_" France pressed.

Canada sighed and told of his new plan.

"Well, since shooting America doesn't really seem to affect him, or himself and England, we need to...completely eliminate him. This is a war against Iraq. I am going to join their side. I am going to burn down his capital, and then I will kill him."

France gaped at Canada, not wanting to believe what he was hearing from his pure little Matthew.

"A-are you serious?" he asked, stuttering a bit.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be? You know how I can get when motivated enough," Canada replied.

France nodded, agreeing, "True, true," he said, but he wondered silently what Canada was so motivated by.

France invited Canada to sit down, and go into depth with details, but Canada declined, knowing he'd have to get back or things would really be suspicious. He had already been gone for about an hour, "To the grocery store". He would really need to think of a good alibi, because his total time out of the house would be about 2 hours once he finally got back.

So with that, Canada got back on a rush plane to England, thinking up a wonderful alibi story on the way. After all, he had plenty of time to do so with that half an hour flight.

* * *

**Heh heh heh...you guys will have to wait 'till next chapter for the good ol' smut xDD So anyways...check out the poll on my profile! I wanna know how often you guys want updates on future stories! :D**


	4. Chapter 4

**So guy I'm updating this from Michigan on a ski trip with my youth group! I bought a bunch of Faygo, and I'm really happy. Enjoy!**

* * *

Back in the house, it had only taken a few seconds for England to pounce on the unsuspecting American beside him. He wasn't normally like this, but he just missed America _so much_. He couldn't help himself.

England smashed his lips against America's, and America didn't resist, kissing him back immediately. Their lips moved in unison, and the movements of their bodies seemed to become one. They both knew exactly what to do, where to touch, and how the other would react. No sooner had England grazed his lips against America's neck, nipping slightly, had America swung England up, carrying him bridal style to their bedroom.

America set England down gently, and England spread himself out on the bed, trying to relax. He was a little giddy though, after all, this is what he had been fantasizing about the entire time that America had been gone.

America hovered over England, and pressed his lips gently to England's, sliding his tongue across his bottom lip. England parted his lips to let America in, and their tongues intertwined with each other, tasting foreign tastes that were no longer familiar. The tastes of one another.

England wound his fingers through America's hair, holding him down so he wouldn't pull away. Not that he was going to anyways. America let his hands slide to England's chest, working their way subconsciously under the older nation's shirt, and caressing the skin there. England shivered at the slightly cold hands touching him, but didn't flinch away. He liked that touch.

America managed to pull away from England's fingers, but only to work his lips across England's jawline and to his neck, where he left marks of ownership. He sucked softly, sweetly at the skin there, making England's breath come a little faster, and causing his member to harden.

America could hardly contain himself when he felt England's fingers brush over his own hardening member. He gasped slightly, and pulled away. England's eyes widened, and America leaned forward to place a soft kiss on England's lips before pulling England's shirt off. He ran his hands firmly over England's chest, and placed kisses over it randomly, before moving his lips to England's left nipple and sucking on it.

England's nipples was one of his most sensitive areas, so it wasn't surprising that shivers of pleasure ran itself throughout his body. England half smiled, and let his hands rest over America's shoulders as he tilted his head back and let the pleasure take him away from his conscience.

America alternated between nipples, and teased whichever one he wasn't sucking on with his hand, twisting and pinching it gently between his fingers. One glance towards England's lower half told him that England was fully turned on by now.

England's seme side could come out at any moments notice, and he chose this moment for it to come out. America was in the midst of blinking, and suddenly, the air spun around him and England was on top.

England crashed his lips against America's, and mumbled something about how much he hated being teased, though he actually loved it. England got very to-the-point about what they were doing, and his hand flew to America's member, massaging it through his clothes.

America's breath hitched, and he let out a very small moan. England grinned upon hearing this moan, and continued in his doings. It wasn't long before America was completely hard.

"You know," America started in between gasps, "I think since I was gone..s-so long, I'd let..._you_ top t-this time," he managed to spit out.

England froze. "Really?"

"Y-yeah...just get on with it."

England was quick to comply, but he realized that America's shirt wasn't even off yet. America deadpanned as he realized this as well, and was quick to take it off as England undid his pants, freeing his member.

America did the same for England, and they were off. England reached into the nearby dresser drawer for the pair's signature lube, and squirted some into his hand. Then he used his first finger to begin stretching America.

America felt the intruding finger enter him, and it made his back arch. He wasn't used to bottoming, and was sure it would be an okay experience, but the burning sensation that brought tears to his eyes that told him otherwise.

"Is t-this really what I put you through _every time_?" he asked, feeling a bit guilty.

"I'm used to it," replied England nonchalantly. When he was sure America had adjusted, he slipped another finger in and moved them.

America's breath hitched and it took all of his self control to keep himself from screaming. The pain...but somewhere there, was pleasure. He soon learned to ignore the pain, and focus on the hidden pleasure as England slid yet another finger inside him, stretching him more and more with each passing second.

America wondered briefly if England was moving along just a _little_ too fast, but he realized that this technique wasn't really much different from his own, so he ignored his own thoughts.

Once England had thought he successfully stretched America enough, he lubed up his own member and positioned himself at America's entrance.

America noticed this, and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, preparing for the worse. He felt England's member enter him, and his entrance contracted over and over to take in the older nation's length. This time, America really did scream out in pain, and couldn't focus on any pleasure at all, because he didn't feel any.

"I'm not experienced at this, America, I'm sorry!" England quickly apologized.

"I-it's alright...I'm stronger than this..," America tried, but England pulled himself out and laid back on the rest of the bed.

"Why don't you top?" he suggested.

America's eyes widened. "But I said you could! A Hero never goes back on his word!"

"But you can't handle it, America. I was going too fast and you weren't prepared. Just top already."

America reluctantly agreed, even though he really loved topping. He had told England that he could! He felt bad, but England didn't really seem to mind. But of course, England _could_ hide his feelings quite well if he wanted to.

America positioned himself in front of England, their previous positions reversed, and lubed his fingers up.

"Are you sure this is okay?" America asked, wanting England to confirm it one last time.

"Yes, I'm sure, America! Just..just get on with it!" England replied, stealing America's words.

America complied, and used his usual techniques, but just a bit slower and more pleasurable to stretch England out.

After awhile of stretching, England spoke up.

"I'm ready, America...you can e-enter..."

America looked England in the eyes, searching for any sliver of doubt, but couldn't find any. So he slicked up his member, and entered England slowly.

England gasped, but it was a gasp of pleasure, because America knew so well where that spot of pleasure for England was.

When England finally instructed him to move, America repeatedly hit that spot of England's. England's eyes rolled in the back of his head as flashed of white crossed his vision, and America was bringing him to the edge far too fast.

But now that England thought about it, this is how the pair usually did it. He supposed it was just because his body wasn't used to this anymore. After all, it had been a few months since he'd seen America.

America tried to slow down, but lost all self control. He pounded England like there was no tomorrow, and in his case, there might not be a tomorrow. Especially with him being at war and all that.

England's face was red, and he was gasping as America thrust. He felt himself come, and America shortly after.

The feeling of England's entrance contracting for him as England came brought America over the edge, and he couldn't contain himself. He spilled his seed inside England while England spilled his all over himself.

America pulled away, flopping on the bed next to England.

"Why didn't we last as long?" he panted.

"We were too deprived," England replied, half scowling, annoyed at America's sudden stupidity.

America was just about to reply when they heard the door slam downstairs. Canada was home.

"You shower first," America said, ushering England into the bathroom. Then America himself jumped in the other shower in the bathroom a little ways down the hall. He listened for footsteps, but Canada was just putting away groceries downstairs. Thank god the two nations weren't caught in the act. That would've been _so_ embarrassing...


	5. Chapter 5

When Canada finally got home, no one seemed to notice or care. He went straight to the kitchen and put the groceries away, because he _did_ actually stop at the store before coming back. When he finally finished with that, he began preparing a dinner of steak and some other various side dishes. A celebration meal of sorts, celebration for America and Canada coming home. Once Canada had the meal mostly prepared, he went off through the house to fetch the rest of his 'family'. He found America and England both sitting in the living room, curled up against each other, watching Doctor Who, which of course to Canada wasn't surprising.

"Dinner's ready," he said, waving the two nations to come into the dining room where Canada had set the table and put out most of the food. He just needed to bring out the big part of the meal, the steak.

America and England exchanged looks and hurried to the dining room as Canada rolled his eyes. He wandered into the kitchen and brought out the steak platter, setting it in the center of the table as he walked into the dining room. America licked his lips greedily and England nudged him with his elbow, scowling.

"Have some manners, won't you?" he said as America rubbed his side from where England had hit him, quite hard if he may say so himself.

"Yeah, yeah...," America mumbled as Canada served each of them food.

"Thanks you very much, Matthew, this all looks so wonderful!" England complimented.

Canada smiled and nodded, "It was no problem. I see it as a celebration meal for Alfred and I coming home safely! Even though we will have to go back soon. . ."

"Don't say that!" America quickly piped up through a mouth full of food, earning him another elbowing from England and a scowl from his brother as he wiped food from America's mouth off his face.

"That's gross," Canada commented.

"Sorry," America replied once he had swallowed.

The rest of the meal went by uneventfully, and it wasn't long before everyone was in bed, tired out by the day's events.

Canada tossed and turned in his bed, not able to sleep. Thoughts of what he was supposed to do consumed him, and whenever he closed his eyes, even if just for a second, nightmares haunted him.

Why the hell had he said those things to France? Was it jealousy that made him pursue this?

Sure, he was a _little_ jealous of America and England's perfect relationship, but he was never really one to take action on it.

Canada sighed and laid on his back. He stared at his ceiling, and finally his eyes started to droop, and he fell asleep.

* * *

Several uneventful weeks passed, and America had made a full recovery, which meant that the twins had to return to war. America was giving goodbyes to England, much like he had that first time, and Canada was standing there, rolling his eyes and going unnoticed as usual. When the cheesy romantic goodbyes were said and done, the twins finally left, taking a taxi to the airport, and riding on an uneventful plane ride. It was only a few hours before they were back at the army camp, and people all over were congratulating Alfred on his recovery, and said they were glad to have the twins back.

"It's great to have you two back!" Their officer leader told them. "You boys do very well on your missions, and are by far one of the most accomplished pairs. It is truly a pleasure to have you work here."

"Thanks, dude! It's all pretty awesome, and a great experience, and sometimes fun!" America told the officer. Canada rolled his eyes and didn't bother speaking.

"Well I'm glad you think so. Just don't let your hubris get the best of you. Many soldiers have fallen because of doing so."

The officer shook their hands again and walked off, and as soon as he was out of earshot, America turned to Canada and asked,

"Mattie, what's a hubris?"

"It's your pride! If you have too much pride or you over estimate yourself, it's too much hubris," Canada explained. America nodded enthusiastically and told him,

"Okay! I'll make sure to not let it get in the way!"

"Good."

The two boys had soon made it back to their barracks, putting away their clothes and such, and the dinner bell rang shortly after.

"Wow, I'm getting a huge case of deja vu here!" America said to Canada as they walked towards the meal hall.

"Yeah, me too," Canada replied. "It feels like our first day here again."

The one thing that was different was that their officer had welcomed them back in front of everyone, and Canada even got a medal.

"Matthew Williams, I present to you The Defense Distinguished Service Medal, for saving ' life on the battlefield," the officer said as he placed a medal over Canada's head. Canada couldn't help but smile as he received his reward.

"Thank you," he said, but refrained from giving a speech. He was soon sitting back down again, and everyone returned to their meals.

"Congrats, Mattie!" America told his brother enthusiastically. "You're so cool dude, you just got an award!"

"Not like I don't have plenty of these at home already, but I guess it is pretty cool," Canada replied.

"So cool! You're a total Hero now, Mattie!" America said, grinning widely from ear to ear. He was so happy for his brother.

"Yeah, I guess," Canada replied, starting to get annoyed. America was starting to draw attention to him, attention that Canada didn't want.

Canada ended up leaving dinner early without America, leaving the 'older' brother to socialize with the other soldiers and exchange "war stories". It would be awhile before America came back, so now was the perfect time for Canada to begin plotting out his master plan to achieve the ultimate goal. So that's what he spent the next several hours doing, before America came back.

As America did come back, Canada pretended that he was asleep, so America went to sleep as well.

* * *

**So guys I sort of fell out of the Hetalia fandom. This is the last chapter I had prepared for this fanfiction, so I have no idea when I'll be back with another. Until then, this will be on haitus. Sorry.**


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